


Meeting in Winter

by a_written_dream



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas AU, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Fluff, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Modern Steve Rogers, New York City, POV Bucky Barnes, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Stucky - Freeform, Stucky Christmas, Winter, pov bucky, stucky au, stucky fluff, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:12:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_written_dream/pseuds/a_written_dream
Summary: Bucky runs into a pretty blond who looks like he's freezing his ass off.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to write something Christmassy, so this is that came out.  
>    
> [First upload on here, hope I'm doing this right haha]  
> Constructive criticism is more than welcome, and gladly point out any mistakes I may have made! 
> 
> Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Happy Sunday!

The world appears to be at peace during times like these, when it’s blanketed in a thick layer of glistening white, when the icy streets are void of occupants, when lights are hanging from roofs and glow in windows. It’s quiet, muffled; the heaps of soft snow absorbs the few noises made by the rare passing car and pedestrian. Not many are out, despite the promise of clear skies. The cold is far too harsh for leisurely strolls. 

Few transports are running on the frozen roads, and there is far too much snow for cars to travel through the streets. The few that have decided to challenge faith drive exceptionally slow to keep their grip on the slippery concrete. The heavy wind pulls with it snow as it travels through the frozen streets, making it appear as if large flakes are falling from the undeniably blue sky. 

No one in their right mind considers going out unless they have to, and even then they have to have a pretty damn good reason. 

Bucky’s one of those people who have a pretty damn good reason. He has no food in his house, unless one counts the dry crackers in his cupboard and the milk that’s going bad in his fridge; Bucky sure doesn’t. On top of his very empty pantry, he also has a very empty bag of Christmas presents. 

Every year he leaves the gift shopping until the last few days, and every year he questions his ability to make decent decisions. He loves Christmas, he really does, and this usually results in the gift shopping being last on his very long list of ’festive things to do’; a list which includes drinking peppermint cocoa, filling his apartment with as much festive ’shit’ – Becca’s words, not his – as possible, and making various snow sculptures while snow covers the streets, amongst a hundred other things. Bucky believes it’s important to indulge in the Christmas spirit as much as physically and mentally possible, and although he does quite enjoy buying gifts – he loves finding that perfect gift he knows is going to make someone’s day – it’s not exactly top fifty on the list. 

Usually, leaving the gift shopping until two days before Christmas isn’t all too bad, except for the million other people who have made the same mistake as him. Despite how annoying it can be and how stressed Bucky gets, its endurable. This, running around buying gifts in the freezing cold, is not so endurable. Apparently it’s the coldest December in decades, and Bucky is ever grateful it isn’t this cold every year. He also thanks his jacket for fighting off most of the cold. He’d rather not get pneumonia, or have his blood freeze in his veins. 

Not only is it cold, the snow is also over one feet practically everywhere, which makes travelling by foot take about three times as long as it would’ve without the flurry obstacle. And if the cold and the snow isn’t bad enough – though Bucky does love the snow – there’s a thick layer of ice underneath the snow, which means Bucky’s ended up on his ass more times than he’d like to admit. 

Bucky is sure he’s pissed off some God somewhere, because besides the cold and slight ache in his ass, this weather also means that every other store close-by is closed. Specifically the ones that sell what Bucky needs. 

And thus, Bucky’s hurrying down the streets, breath clouding around his mouth, desperately trying to just get it done with so he can go home. He only has one gift left, but the sun is already starting to set. Bucky’s walked past multiple stores that have turned their open signs to ’closed’. There’s no time to waste, even if Bucky does love the Christmas lights which illuminate the streets when the sun has set. 

Bucky’s mind is going at fifty miles per hour, wondering where the closest Rituals is. _Didn’t Becca say that she’d been to one on Union Street just the other week?_ Where he puts his feet is the last thing on his mind, and he doesn’t exactly acknowledge the man walking towards him. Until he’s lying on his back in the snow with said man sprawled across his chest, that is. Bags are scattered around them and Bucky’s arms are wrapped around the man’s narrow waist, instinctively having dropped everything to soften the blow for the poor guy. It is, after all, Bucky’s fault he isn’t standing up anymore. Least he can do is make the fall as pleasant as possible.

The man pushes himself up slightly from Bucky’s grip and peers down at him. Bucky decides that, besides the newly acquired ache in his back and now worse ache in his ass, the situation isn’t all that bad. How could it be, when those gorgeous blue eyes are looking down at him?

”Hi,” he manages to squeak out. Those blinking blue eyes leave him breathless. The man seems to regain his senses and quickly fumbles out of Bucky’s grip, much to Bucky’s disappointment. If anyone asked, he’d be glad to admit that he enjoyed holding that small body in his arms. 

A delicate hand reaches out to him once the man is standing on his own two feet, and Bucky has to retain himself from grabbing it too quickly. The thin hand feels as cold as the snow beneath them and the man looks so fragile that he might break if Bucky isn’t careful. Lightly grasping the offered hand, and mostly pushing himself off of the ground, Bucky stands almost ten inches taller than the blue-eyed man. Looking down at the nameless stranger he finds himself, for the second time in less than two minutes, breathless. A tuft of blond sticks out from underneath the man’s blue hat, soft and golden and flecked with snow. Bucky wonders for a moment if the man’s eyes are as blue without the hat, but decides he doesn’t care. They’d be gorgeous anyway. 

The man’s rosy cheeks and red-blushed nose are a stark contrast against his otherwise pale skin, and his lips are tinted just the slightest shade of blue. His small frame is hidden, almost buried, in a large coat, and a soft and fluffy scarf is wrapped around his neck. The stranger looks like an ice prince, and Bucky doesn’t think he’s seen anything so beautiful in his life. 

Bucky doesn’t mind that the man’s hand is as cold as ice; it’s small and soft and smooth, and Bucky really, really likes that.

That small, soft, smooth hand slips from his own, and the man bends down to gather everything that was scattered due to Bucky’s inability to think and walk at the same time. Bucky does the same, grabbing a few scattered sketchbooks and charcoal pencils and handing them over to the man, who gingerly takes them with trembling hands.

”T-thanks,” he stutters, his teeth clattering. 

”You okay there, pal? You look a little cold,” Bucky says with a frown, bending down to pick up his last few things from the fluffy snow. 

”I-I’m f-fine,” the man answers and hands over one of Bucky’s bags.

”Thanks. You sure? You don’t seem so fine.” The stranger opens his mouth and Bucky raises his eyebrow at him. ”Frankly,” he cuts off before the man can deny anything, ”you look like you’re freezing your ass off.” The blond huffs a breath, rolling his eyes at Bucky’s blunt statement. 

”B-bad b-blood circu-lation. I’m ok-ay,” he mutters, a shriver running through him as a cold wind passes them. Soft snow falls from the sky, landing in the man’s eyelashes. As much as Bucky would love to continue watching the blond in the snow, he also really wants him to stop trembling. 

”Let me buy you a coffee or something. You look like you could use a warm drink,” Bucky offers with a concerned smile. Becca’s gift can wait. 

Usually, Bucky wouldn’t let the opportunity to flirt with such a handsome guy pass, but he’s far too concerned with getting said guy warm. He wouldn’t want to scare the stranger away and have him freeze to death because Bucky was being too forward. 

”Y-you d-don’t hafta d-do t-that,” the man says and shakes his head. His cheek grow just slightly redder and his eyes flicker to the ground, and Bucky thinks (hopes) the man is just trying to be polite. 

”How long until your destination?” Bucky enquires, determined to not let the blond go without knowing he won’t die from hypothermia. 

”Ab-out half an hour,” the stranger states, a skeptical, yet challenging, look in his eyes. He’s undoubtedly a fighter. With that distance until the blond is warm and the look in his eyes, Bucky is definitely not letting him go now. 

”I’m buying you a coffee,” Bucky states. ”Or a hot cocoa if you prefer that.” The man’s eyes widen adorably and Bucky swears he sees the corners of his lips turn upwards just the slightest.

”You r-really don’t h-have to d-do that,” the blond stutters. Bucky shrugs and moves the scarf he bought for his mother to another bag. He holds the now empty bag towards the man, who carefully places his art supplies in it, takes it with shaking hands, and murmurs a quiet ’thank you’. 

”Least I can do for knocking you down,” Bucky states with an easy grin, the first he’s offered the blond. He feels satisfied enough to give him one now that he doesn’t have to worry about the blond’s health. ”Come on, there’s a nice little place just around the corner. Makes the best peppermint cocoa.” He turns on his heel and the blond quickly scurries to keep up with him. 

”I’m S-Steve,” the stranger tells him, and Bucky’s smile widens. A pretty name for a pretty thing. 

”Nice to meet you S-Steve,” Bucky teases, and the stranger, _Steve_ , sends him an unamused glare. Despite his small frame, it’s an impressive glower. Bucky might have taken him serious if it wasn’t for the snow in his lashes and the large flake on the tip of his nose. The image draws a laugh from Bucky – _He’s so cute_ – and Steve’s lips tug at the corners. ”I’m Bucky,” he tells the blond, who raises and eyebrow at him. 

”W-what kind of n-name is that?” he asks and Bucky shrugs. 

”My name,” he states, keeping his pace slow so that Steve can keep up with him. The snow almost reaches up to the smaller male’s knees. 

Steve flushes red and quickly splutters out an apology, slipping on some ice hidden under the snow. He grips onto the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket and Bucky’s hand lands on the lower of Steve’s back to keep the man standing. Steve quickly stands up straight, letting go of Bucky’s jacket and looking impossibly redder. Another string of apologies leaves his lips. Bucky just laughs and grins down at the blushing blond. 

”It’s a nickname from when I was a kid,” he explains, waving Steve’s apologies off. ”I know it’s kinda lame for a 22-year-old to have the name of a dog, but I can’t seem to go back to my actual name. ’Bucky’s kinda grown on me,” he states, shrugging and chuckling, and gives the blond a grin. He’s never been ashamed of his name, and he isn’t about to start now. The corners of Steve’s lips turn upwards and it’s the closest thing to a smile Bucky’s gotten out of the blond. He feels rather proud for causing that almost-smile. 

”Nah, it’s not lame. I l-like it,” Steve states. ”It’s unique.” Bucky appreciates Becca’s imagination a little more, at that. 

Bucky opens the door to the small coffee shop for Steve, and the blond sighs happily at the warmth that surrounds them. The promised coffee becomes two coffees, and then three, and then they’ve decided to move from the small café to a diner just a block away. When Bucky waves Steve off – not before giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek – with a promise of meeting again, he thinks that maybe leaving the Christmas shopping until last wasn’t such a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is _always_ welcome!


End file.
